Chapter Three
On her last day in Los Angeles, Rosarita Cortez was told by his father that Diego was fishing.
She'd spent the earlier hours of that day visiting with her mother, saying goodbye to friends and family, and she was dressed in her best white dress, feeling very grown up.
Her mother, once the visits were over, had dropped her off at the de la Vega hacienda just moments ago, and she'd been led to the sala.
After a moment's wait, Don Alejandro came out from his study.
She jumped up instinctively and then curtsied when she realized it wasn't Diego. "Your pardon, Don Alejandro. I was looking for Diego."
Don Alejandro came down the steps and motioned to the servant standing by, and he quickly hurried away.
"My son is fishing, but I'd like to speak to you, if you'd accept me as a replacement?"
"Oh, of course, Don Alejandro!" She exclaimed. He gestured for her to sit down again, and she did so swiftly.
Don Alejandro also sat down, in the chair opposite hers, as the servant returned, bearing wine.
Rosarita was tickled. He was treating her like a real guest!
"Rosarita, I know you are leaving us, and believe me, I do wish you weren't," and he poured them both small amounts of the wine. "You have always been a very welcome guest in this hacienda."
"Muchos gracias," Rosarita said, in return, for the compliment and the glass of wine. She tasted a sip and wasn't disappointed.
"I will make a toast," Don Alejandro said and she hastily put her glass back on the table. "To you, and to Diego, and whatever may come next. Salud."
"Salud," she repeated and they clinked the glasses together before drinking.
She also liked the second taste.
"You know, I expect you will visit sometimes," Alejandro commented.
"Oh, definitely! My uncle will still be living here and I feel sure my parents will let me visit. Maybe every summer!"
"Like Ricardo del Amo does?" He asked, eyes twinkling.
Rosarita choked on her wine. "Maybe not summer," she gasped, and Don Alejandro laughed.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased. Besides, you did come to see Diego. On that note, that's a very pretty dress."
"It's my best. Mother had it made because we were leaving." Rosarita explained. "And gracias."
He stood, and she followed suit, and he kissed her hand in farewell. "Diego is fishing in the Torres stream. Don't tear your dress getting there."
Mindful of Don Alejandro's cautionary words, Rosarita went a bit slower than usual, so as to be more careful.
The way to the Torres stream was over pasture and grassland, and she kept her skirt as high off the ground as she dared while picking her path.
The day was hotter than usual, and she wished she'd taken her parasol with her from the carriage, but, as usual, she'd forgotten all about it the second the de la Vega hacienda came into view.
Ducking below branches, and cautiously descending the little hills, Rosarita finally reached the hill overlooking the stream, and spied Diego.
Her dress was more than forgotten, it was completely dismissed, as she hurried down the hill to him.
"Diego!"
"Shh, you'll scare the fish," he warned. "I've already caught two."
She halted immediately, crushed by his dismissive words.
His concentration remained on the fish, but she could see his eyes flick to her and then back to his pole.
She wanted to sit and wait, but didn't dare, because of her dress, which had once more became important. She spied Diego's jacket laying on the ground and she moved towards it.
"May I—"
"Si, just be quiet! One more fish!"
She moved the jacket under a tree, for shade, and arranged it carefully. Then she painstakingly gathered up her skirts and sat down, frowning as she watched Diego.
There was a breeze, once you were nearer to the water, and Rosarita leaned back on her hands, trying to relax as she waited for Diego to finish. It wasn't like Diego to keep her waiting like this. And on her last day in Los Angeles…
He kept his mind on his fishing, though, casting and recasting, and just waiting for the wooden bobber to duck under the water. He lost two worms and baited one more, waiting for his ever elusive third fish.
Rosarita was relieved when that fish finally swam in and took the bait, and Diego finally finished and started gathering his things. Rosarita tensed, wondering if she should stand, but he merely made a pile, checked on his already caught fish and walked over, flopping down on his back next to her. He looked sullen.
"Diego?" She said, hesitantly.
"Hmm?"
"Aren't—aren't you going to say something?"
"Say what?" He asked, shading his eyes with his hand.
"Oh, goodbye?" Rosarita returned, trying to sound careless, but her voice betrayed her and the words came out in a voice higher than usual.
"Goodbye, then," he muttered.
"Diego! Don't you care?"
"About what?" He asked, sitting up with flashing eyes.
"That I'm leaving!"
"Of course I do!" He bit out, still scowling. He stood up and she scrambled to her feet. "Of course I don't want you to leave and of course I want to ask you to stay but you can't, so why say anything at all?"
He was walking now, and Rosarita hurried after him, into the sunlight and over rocks by the stream's edge.
The afternoon sun caught the water, making little rainbows.
"And I would do just about anything to make you stay, but there's nothing I can do!" He turned around, and Rosarita was shocked to see tears in his eyes. He grabbed her hand ."Rosarita, I—I might love you. Please, will you promise me something?"
She would have given him the moon, the way he was looking at her.
"What, Diego?"
"When we're grown, if we aren't already, will you marry me? It's such a good idea. We can live right here in Los Angeles and you'll never have to leave again!"
"Oh, Diego, of course! And it is a good idea!"
"We should make it official," he muttered and looked around him. "How can we seal it?"
Rosarita knew how she wanted to seal it, but instead proffered her hand, intending for Diego to shake it, but instead he raised it to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles, something he'd never done before. He kept her gaze the whole time he did it, and Rosarita's stomach made a funny little flop.
"It's sealed," she whispered, pulling her hand away.
Diego was looking at her so intently it hurt, and she smiled, slower than usual and she was surprised to see him blush, and to feel heat on her own cheeks.
He took her hand again. "Yes, it is," he murmured, squeezing it, and Rosarita thought her heart would burst.
There in the afternoon sun they said vows she hoped—expected—to last a lifetime.
End Part One.
